Chapter 141: The Advantage of True Total Concentration
From Natsuya's perspective, the massive morning star had started off looking
deceptively sluggish. Yet in the span of a single breath, it had accelerated to
an absurd velocity.
Even without an active offensive push from Gyomei, that impenetrable sphere of
whirling iron formed a defensive perimeter that was nearly impossible to crack.
Worse yet, the trajectory of the spiked ball was impossible to predict. The
chain wasn't swinging in a rigid, fixed circle. Gyomei was manipulating it with
subtle, terrifyingly precise shifts in leverage, causing the iron ball to trace
unpredictable, jagged arcs through the air.
This thirty-meter ring is way too small, Natsuya realized.
If this were an open battlefield, he could easily use range and spacing to kite
the giant, patiently probing for a hitbox opening. In a true life-or-death
struggle, he wouldn't hesitate to pull out the Colt or coat his blades in
Wisteria neurotoxin to avoid a direct clash altogether.
But this was a sanctioned tournament spar.
Natsuya tried several angles of approach, but none paid off. Every time he moved
into his effective strike zone, the whistle of the chain or the shadow of the
flail cut off his advance. His lightning-fast thrusts were repeatedly swatted
out of the air by the blind monk.
And the moment Natsuya paused, Gyomei would seamlessly transition into offense,
utilizing the weight of the stone to push him back with sweeping arc attacks.
Natsuya couldn't close the gap to bring his katana within range, while Gyomei's
devastating flail couldn't clip the hyper-agile, predictive teenager.
The two of them were locked in a delicate, high-tension stalemate.
"Tenme," Ubuyashiki Kagaya spoke softly from the veranda, his blind eyes turned
toward the gale sweeping the courtyard. "In your view, how does the match
between Natsuya-kun and Gyomei-san stand?"
The Kakushi named Tenme broke out in a cold sweat.
Oyakata-sama, if I had the dynamic vision to analyze a duel between Hashira,
would I still be in the logistics unit?!
He squinted frantically at the blur of violence in the courtyard and began
making things up on the fly.
"Reporting to the Master... it is... quite even! A contest of equals, each
displaying their unique virtues!"
Seeing the Master lean forward as if about to ask for a tactical breakdown,
Tenme's survival instincts flared. He quickly passed the buck.
"However, Lady Takizuki, who is serving as referee, seems to hold a different
assessment!"
The diversion worked. Kagaya turned toward the Wing Hashira. "Takizuki, do you
see something else?"
Takizuki shot the treacherous Kakushi a brief, venomous glare before bowing
slightly toward Kagaya.
"Oyakata-sama, in my humble opinion, little Gyomei holds a distinct advantage."
"His raw physical strength is already terrifying, and that customized flail
magnifies it several times over. For an opponent in the same weight class,
finding an opening is nearly impossible."
"If Natsuya could slip inside his guard, he might turn the tables. But he
clearly lacks experience against chain-weapons. Right now, he's relying on
footwork to stay alive. The moment he miscalculates by a single frame and takes
a clean hit from that iron ball, the match is over."
Kagaya listened attentively, nodding slightly. "I see. Yet... I feel Natsuya-kun
still has a very real path to victory."
Takizuki blinked in surprise. She wanted to argue using martial logic, but out
of absolute reverence for the Master, she held her tongue.
Does the Master foresee Natsuya winning through that strange intuition of his?
Beside them, Shinjuro Rengoku suddenly spoke up. "Takizuki, the Master isn't
wrong."
The female swordsman stared at the Flame Hashira in shock. Are you just kissing
up to the boss now, Senior?!
In truth, having personally experienced Natsuya's miraculous abilities in Tokyo,
Shinjuro genuinely believed it.
Takizuki turned her gaze to Igarashi Uzen. "Igarashi, don't tell me you agree
with them?"
The Storm Hashira merely adjusted his glasses. "Natsuya is a child who brings
miracles with him wherever he goes."
In Igarashi's assessment, if someone could only manage a stalemate against
Natsuya using their standard forms, the outcome was already decided.
Because Natsuya's baseline was never his true threat.
Takizuki threw her hands up mentally. What kind of Kool-Aid did this kid feed
you two? Why does everyone have this blind faith in him?!
The dynamic in the ring shifted the very next second.
With a flick of his wrist, Natsuya drove his Nichirin katana, Master Kang the
Third, straight into the soil.
Then, reaching behind his back, he drew a crude, battered blacksmith's
sledgehammer from his pack.
Gyomei's ears twitched. He recognized the heavy, metallic presence of that
tool—it carried the scent of the forge belonging to his former mentor, Matsuyama
Daimon.
What is Sir Kokonoe doing...?
"Can't trade blows against a wrecking ball with a thin sheet of steel," Natsuya
muttered, giving the hammer a test swing. He flashed a sharp grin. "High Priest,
watch your head!"
Natsuya's breathing rhythm shifted violently.
It was no longer the steady, subtle hum of his usual forms.
The moment his lung capacity deepened, Gyomei sensed the qualitative spike in
pressure. The monk immediately pushed his own Stone Breathing to maximum output.
Yet, even among Total Concentration techniques, there was a hierarchy.
Having broken through the limits of multiple styles, Natsuya had pushed the
concept of the Breath into a realm standard swordsmen couldn't fathom. His
multiplier was mathematically broken.
[True Total Concentration!]
Gyomei's baseline [Body] stat hovered around 300, surging to roughly 400 or 500
when active. In a brief burst of Total Concentration, he could touch the 600
mark.
Even while holding back to avoid wrecking the Master's estate, Gyomei's morning
star shattered the sound barrier!
BOOM!
A thunderous shockwave ripped through the courtyard. Shinjuro and Takizuki moved
instinctively, stepping in front of Kagaya with their weapons bared to swat away
the stray air currents.
Yet, that supersonic strike failed to achieve Gyomei's goal.
Natsuya didn't dodge.
He didn't weave.
Instead, he swung that stubby, seemingly clumsy sledgehammer, turning it into a
pitch-black blur of kinetic force!
Smithing Hammer met Morning Star in an unvarnished, direct collision!
CLAAAANG—!!!
Gyomei knew his own strength. He had instinctively tried to pull his power at
the moment of contact, worried he might shatter the boy's bones.
Yet the haptic feedback traveling back through the chain was the complete
opposite of what he expected.
His weapon... was deflected?!
Natsuya's base stats were lower, but his skill multipliers completely bridged
the gap. His 165 [Body] stat, supercharged by True Total Concentration, briefly
spiked past 700—matching, and slightly edging out, the Stone Hashira's peak
output!
The humble sledgehammer had become an immovable mountain, crashing head-on into
Gyomei's avalanche.
Two weapons that discarded finesse for pure, unadulterated mass clashed
repeatedly in mid-air.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
The impacts sounded like rolling thunder. This time, the web of absolute power
Gyomei had spun began to buckle under Natsuya's relentless, heavy hammering.
A microscopic fracture appeared in the monk's guard.
The flail was batted wide, and Natsuya breached the perimeter.
Twisting his core, planting his lead foot, Natsuya whipped his leg around like a
steel cable, carrying tons of rotational force.
"Style: DRAGON'S TAIL!"
Gyomei barely managed to bring his short-handled axe up to absorb the kick, but
the absurd kinetic energy pushed his colossal 2.2-meter frame backward, skidding
through the dirt in a long trench.
He stopped right at the boundary line.
Natsuya stepped forward to pursue, but Gyomei raised a single, scarred hand.
"Namu Amida Butsu..."
"Sir Kokonoe, this monk concedes."
Natsuya blinked, looking down. Half of Gyomei's right foot had stepped outside
the chalk boundary.
Gyomei lowered his axe, speaking with gentle reverence. "Furthermore, if we
continue this exchange..."
He trailed off, glancing toward the veranda.
Natsuya followed his gaze and understood immediately.
The ring in this courtyard was never built to contain this tier of pure, seismic
violence. A duel between katanas could be contained, but two warriors trading
mountain-shattering blows with blunt steel was another story.
Even with both of them pulling their strikes, the shockwaves were rattling the
estate.
If they pushed any further, the first casualty wouldn't be either of the
fighters, but the frail Ubuyashiki Kagaya watching from the porch. The sheer air
pressure had already caused the Master to furrow his brow, his skin a shade
paler than usual.
"Kokonoe Natsuya wins!" Takizuki announced, seizing the opportunity.
Natsuya scratched his head, resting the hammer on his shoulder.
A ring-out technicality and a voluntary forfeit...
Man, this match ended before I could even get my combo off.
☆☆☆
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